Goodbye Jack
by BananaGirl
Summary: As a vulnerable, weak and destroyed girl dies, a cold, calculating and ruthless woman is born. (ONE-SHOT)


Goodbye Jack

I touched the fresh bruise tenderly, wincing slightly at the stinging sensation. Peering at my reflection in the portal, I can just about make out the other bruises which adorn my once unmarred visage. Purples, yellows, blues and occasionally the odd hue of green all stare back at me. Brown hair falls just past my shoulders, unruly and unkempt. Rather strangely, I missed having no hair, but the lack of sharp things around me ensured I couldn't cut it. They made sure of that. Shaking my head, I squint at myself. Thankfully, the portal offers a rather shoddy reflection of my true self, blurring it slightly, so that the damage doesn't seem so great. Well, that was the idea. That was why I had smashed all the mirrors as soon as we had boarded the ship, but my curiosity had taken hold of me and, for one insane minute, I told myself it couldn't look that bad.

Tearing myself away from the alien reflection, I headed towards the hard-backed chair in the corner and sat down. It had been four days since we'd been on this ship, and I was bored. You would've thought I'd gotten used to this, to staying in my room for months on end, gotten used to my own company. A small smile threatened to emerge upon my face. My own company left a lot to be desired. When alone, all I had was thoughts and memories. Thoughts that I didn't want to analyse. Memories that I wish would disappear.

The ship jerked unexpectedly, breaking me out of my little reverie. Useless, absolutely useless. The bastards couldn't even pilot a ship properly. Of course, I was referring to the Rykengolls. They brought me on their many journeys to the shittest planets ever and none of the rides had been smooth. The ships had jerked, crashed and swerved all over the Universe, and this one didn't sound any different. Obviously, I hadn't expected it to be any different. I'd been on their little trips for the best part of two years – I knew better.

Standing up, I moved my head from side to side, my neck cracking. Then I started on my fingers, which always seemed to seize up when night fell. I intertwined them, pushing them outwards from my body. A small, almost inaudible gasp escaped my lips at the pain which followed several other cracking sounds. I glance down at the name badge pinned upon my oversized, dirty shirt. It had mocked me for months. They made it compulsory for all slaves to wear one and, at first, I hadn't minded. It reminded me that I was still Jack, that I always would be. Then I didn't want reminding anymore. I didn't want to see the name that they cooed dirtily into my ear each night. I didn't want to see the name they called out in ecstasy, didn't want to see the name they sang with their underlying connotations as I walked past them. So, one day, I removed it. It was easy, simple. Then one of them noticed something was odd, not right, when I was heading towards the kitchens. It didn't take him long to realise I wasn't wearing it, but to me it had seemed like an eternity. It was an outright defiance, a lack of obedience and, for a brief second, I was proud of myself. Smug. That second didn't last long. Suddenly, he was upon me, dragging me back to my room whilst calling for back-up through his personal intercom. That night five of them broke an arm, a leg and all of my fingers between them and raped me.

Naturally, after that, I made sure I had the badge on at all times. I even slept with it on. The only time I took it off was when I showered, and that was extremely rare. Funny, that incident is the only one I can really remember. The rest just seem to blend into one, as though they're not individual events. Alright, I lied. It's not that funny.

A familiar soft 'beep' came from my door and my eyes instinctively darted to it, slightly widened from panic. I had lost track of time. Jumping to my feet, I watched with trepidation as the door slid effortlessly open. It was Twunv. He had come last night, as well, but I was only slightly relieved to see that he had left his friend behind tonight. Entering my room, a smirk on his face, I walked over to the bed and got on, pulling down my pants. This had obviously surprised him, because it took him a few seconds before he actually approached. My gaze was directed towards the left wall.

"Not going to struggle?" He inquired, humour and slight curiosity evident in his tone as he fiddled with his trousers. I didn't bother replying as he climbed onto the bed, sinking it slightly with his weight. His heavy hands grasped at me, groping and feeling. It was time to go. My gaze was at the wall, yet I couldn't see it. My mind had gone back two years earlier. It's this fantasy I think my subconscious preferred, because it was the one it often chose.

I am on a skiff, every detail fresh in my mind. I can even smell the slight musty scent it held. There is silence, but it's not an uncomfortable one. I've just woken from a fitful sleep, haunted by monsters that hide in darkness. A familiar face looks into my sleepy, glassy eyes and smiles reassuringly. Imam. He shushes my soft whimpers, a hand touching my forehead in a fatherly manner, before moving lower…

No. I'm being pulled back. The Rykengoll is now on top of me, his hands around my pelvic area, heading lower. I force myself to stare, stare unblinkingly at the wall. The cream paint is disappearing, his harsh, taunting voice being replaced by a more comforting, familiar one.

"I have to. It's for your best interest." The deep, rumbling tone is explaining. Imam glances over at me as I watch.

"And Jack?" He inquires, yet receives no reply. Panic sets in me as I jump from my make-shift bed. "Don't leave me, Riddick!" I plead, rushing over to him. "I'll…I'll die!" I argue immaturely. His gaze is upon me, I know, even though he has his goggles on. "I can help you!" I wither on further. "We can be two lone warriors on the run!" I babble on excitedly.

A smile is threatening to break his steely expression, but loses. "How can we be lone warriors if there are two of us?" He asks, his voice deadpan.

"Well, um…" I trail off, staring at the floor. A part of my subconscious knows this is a memory, a memory I'll keep forever. But now the fantasy part kicks in, and I am so wrapped up in it that the Rykengoll is momentarily forgotten. Riddick walks up to me, places a hand on my shoulder, and simply nods. And in that moment, I am truly happy. I know that we'll journey through the galaxy together, with only each other for company. We'll be outlaws, narrowly escaping a life in the slam and have hundreds of adventures, each more cool and different to the last. He offers me his hand, giving me a choice but, before I can take it, I am distracted by a misplaced sound.

Heavy, laborious breathing can be heard around me and, fearfully, I realise I'm being pulled back again. I force my eyes to stare, but inside of returning all I can see is a cream wall. I pull my head away in rage, the Rykengoll's deep voice become clearer and clearer in my mind, whilst Riddick disappears completely.

"Having fun, Jacky?" The voice taunts, his hand grasping my face, forcing me to stare up at him. His unclean, unshaven face is twisted in pleasure and his breathing is becoming increasing louder. My legs are aching as he pounds mercilessly into me, but I try and forget it, try and hold on to my fantasy. It's slipping through my fingers, because now I can feel him as he thrusts inside of me. My arms are beginning to ache, too, from where he's holding me down. Then, as his body spasms, he empties himself inside of me, whispering one word. "Jack." It comes out breathlessly and, at that precise moment, I know my fantasy has gone, that I'll never be able to get it back. Fury builds deep inside me as I stare at his face, his dirty fucking face. His eyes are closed in content. I can hear a high-pitched, manic scream and the heavy weight is suddenly lifted off of me. I lay still for a few moments, my aching body unwilling to do as it is told but, eventually, I sit up. The blood rushes to my head and, in my clouded state, I realise that I was the one who screamed. I was the one who pushed the bastard off me with all my strength. The Rykengoll is on the floor, his body at unnatural angles. Gingerly, I get up and walk over to him, noticing a fine streak of blood all the way down that cream wall. An innocent, small nail, protruding from the wall, is coated in blood. His blood. A small, almost unnoticeable hole in his temple is becoming covered in thick blood. The smell is intoxicating

A shrill, incessant ringing echoes around my room and I curse as it brings me back to reality. Each Rykengoll wears an identification card, which runs on body heat. When there is no body heat, the card gives off an alarm. The Rykengoll was obviously dead, and soon I would be. I could hear footsteps outside my room, coming closer and closer. In my panic, I grabbed the dead Rykengoll's shiv and gun. I was not going down without a fight.

Ten minutes later, I staggered from my room. A collection of shrill, incessant ringing noises were left behind me as I practically fell into the corridor, covered in blood. None of it was mine.

"Jack?" A voice behind me made me jump. Instinctively, I increased my grip on the shiv in my hand, turned around and stabbed with all my might. Blue eyes widened in shock, blonde hair falling in front of them. The girl made no attempt to move her locks. My mouth dropped slightly in surprise. I had expected a tall, fat Rykengoll, not this short, skinny girl. Nevertheless, my hand still pushed upwards, ghosting her on the spot, as though it had a mind of its own. The girl fell silently to the floor, red blood pooling around her. I watched her die without interest, nothing inside me stirred. It didn't matter that I had known her. It didn't matter that for two years she had been my only friend. Fuck, it didn't matter that she was the only person who knew how I felt, who knew what I went through because she had to endure the exact same as me.

Kneeling down, I tugged off her trousers and pulled them on myself. Turning away, I stopped momentarily and looked back. Then I unpinned my badge and reached down and did the same to hers. Fastening her badge onto my shirt, I threw my old badge at her body and it landed next to her hand. I tucked the gun into my waistband but kept the shiv out, just in case. Then I spun on my heel and headed down the corridor, the captain's identification card in my hand. After I had ghosted him, I had almost forgotten to pick it up.

Entering an unfamiliar room, I saw another Rykengoll piloting the ship. By my calculations, he was the last one. Swift movements ensured I got behind him without him even noticing. He noticed me when the shiv was pressed against his throat, though. "Keep piloting, and I won't kill you." I promised, though I knew it was empty, and I suspected he did as well. Nevertheless, he did as he was told, but not before sneaking a quick look at my new badge. I increased the shiv's pressure on his throat.

"Yes, the name's Kyra. Now make this pile of shit go fucking faster."


End file.
